The Roman sotk-2

by Mika Waltari

  Thus I could declare property in Britain as well as Italy when it came to my appointment as senator. In this way I became a senator, as Claudia wished. And nothing was said against me, other than that I was not of the prescribed age. To this remark the Senate laughed loudly, for there had been so many exceptions to the age-limit rule in the past that die whole matter had lost its significance. In addition, everyone knew what the speaker had wished to bring up against me but did not dare. At Nero’s suggestion, I was more or less unanimously appointed to the high office of senator. I did not bother to remember who had voted against me, for one of them came smiling up to me after the meeting and explained that it is always best for the authority of the Senate that less important suggestions by the Emperor did not receive unanimous support. This I did remember with gratitude.

  I have told you so many details of what happened in connection with the Pisonian conspiracy, not to defend myself-for I have no reason to do that-but to postpone for as long as possible what is most painful. You will no doubt guess that I mean Antonia. The tears come to my eyes still, after all these years, when I think of her fate.

  Soon after Piso’s suicide, Nero put Antonia’s house on Palatine under guard. He had heard from all too many quarters that Antonia had agreed to follow the usurper to the Praetorian camp. There was even a rumor going around that Piso had promised to divorce his wife and marry Antonia when he became Emperor, but I thought I knew better, as long as Antonia, from love of myself and thought for your future, did not eventually consider such a marriage necessary for political reasons.

  I was allowed only one more night with Antonia. That night cost me a million sesterces, the price of the guards’ fear of Nero and Tigellinus. But I was more than glad to give this sum of money. What does money mean against love and passion? I should gladly have given all my possessions to have been able to save Antonia’s life. Or at least a very large part of my possessions. But it could not be done.

  During that night of melancholy we seriously planned to abandon everything and attempt to flee together to India, where I had business connections. But it was too far away. We saw that we should soon be caught, for Antonia’s features were known to every Roman, even in the provinces, because of the many statues of her, and no disguise would hide her noble figure for long.

  Weeping and embracing, we relinquished all false hopes. Antonia assured me tenderly that she would die bravely and gladly, because for once in her life she had experienced true love. She admitted openly that she had thought of approving me as her consort, if destiny had so wished it, after Claudia had died in some way or other. This assurance of hers is the greatest honor I have ever received in my life. I do not think I am doing wrong in telling you. I do not want to boast about it; simply to show you that she really did love me.

  During our last night she talked long and feverishly, telling me of her childhood and her uncle, Sejanus-who, she said, was to have made Claudius Emperor if he had managed to murder Tiberius and get the support of the Senate. Then Rome would have escaped the terrible reign of Gaius Caligula. But fate wished otherwise, and Antonia admitted that Claudius had not then been mature enough to rule. He did nothing but play dice, drink and drive Antonia’s mother to the verge of bankruptcy.

  We sat hand in hand for the whole of that night, talking together while death stood waiting on the threshold. The knowledge of this gave our kisses a flavor of blood and brought stinging tears to my eyes. Such a night a person experiences only once in his life and he never forgets it. Afterwards every other pleasure and every other enjoyment is but a reflection. After Antonia I have never really loved another woman.

  As the irretrievable moments rushed away and the morning dawned all too soon, Antonia finally made a strange suggestion to me, which at first dumbfounded me although I had to admit its wisdom after my first objections. We both knew we should have no further opportunity to meet. Her death was so inevitable that not even Fortuna could save her now.

  So she did not wish to extend her painful waiting, but suggested that I, in addition to the others who had already done so, should also denounce her to Nero. This would hasten her death, finally free me of any suspicions Nero might have and secure your future.

  The very thought of such a denouncement was distasteful to me, but Antonia persuaded me and finally I agreed to her suggestion.

  On the threshold of her bedroom she gave me some sound advice about certain ancient families with whom I should make connections of friendship for your sake, and others whom for the same reason I should do all I could to keep from power and office, if not in other ways ruin them as best I could.

  With tears glittering in her eyes she said she regretted her own death only because she would have been so happy, when the time came, to have had a share in choosing a suitable bride for you, with the future in mind. There are not many left in Rome. Antonia urged me to arrange your betrothal in good time and use my judgment when the right girl was twelve years old. But you take no notice of my reasonable suggestions.

  The guards grew uneasy and came and hurried me. We had to part. I shall always remember Antonia’s tearful, smiling, beautiful, noble face, haggard after the night. But I had an even better plan. It made it easier for me to leave her, although the steps I took were the heaviest of my life.

  I did not want to go home, nor to see Claudia, nor even you, my son. I whiled away the time by walking around the gardens of Palatine. I stood for a moment leaning against a scorched ancient pine tree, which incredibly was still alive. I looked to the east and to the west, to the north and to the south. Even if all of it were mine one day, I thought, I should exchange the whole earth for a single one of Antonia’s kisses and all the pearls of India for the whiteness of her limbs, for love blinds a man wonderfully in this way.

  In reality Antonia was older than I and her best years were behind her. Her thin face bore lines of experience and suffering and she could have been a little plumper here and there. But to me this thinness only emphasized her enchantment. The trembling of her nostrils and her skin was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.

  In ecstasy, I stared down at the forum at my feet, at its ancient buildings, at the new Rome rising from the ashes and ruins, at the buildings of Nero’s Golden Palace which glittered in the sunrise over on Esquiline. I was not really thinking of sites and business, although it did occur to me that my old house on Aventine had become too cramped and that for your sake I should have to acquire a new and more worthy house, as near to the Golden Palace as possible.

  I turned away and went down from Palatine to cross over to the Golden Palace and seek audience at Nero’s morning reception. If I were to denounce Antonia, then I had to hurry so that no one did so before me. At the thought of the insanity of life, I burst out laughing, so that I was walking half-laughing, half-weeping, like a man in ecstasy.

  Mimdus absurdus, the world is absurd, I repeated aloud to myself, as if I had found a new and astonishing truth. But in my state it seemed the greatest wisdom, though I calmed down later on and thought better of it.

  My head cooled a little as I greeted the waiting people in the reception room, for I seemed to see animal heads on them all. This was such an astonishing sight that I had to brush my hand across my eyes.

  In the glittering silver ivory salon, its floor decorated with a huge mosaic portraying a banquet of the gods, many people were gathered, pa-tiendy waiting until midday for a glimpse of Nero. The whole of the animal world was there, from a camel and a hedgehog to bulls and pigs. Tigellinus seemed to be so obviously a thin tiger to me that I clapped my hand to my mouth when I greeted him to stop myself from laughing aloud.

  This strange delusion, which was probably caused by lack of sleep, love and my inner tension, passed when Nero allowed me to enter his bedroom before all the others, after I had sent a message to say my information was very important. He had had Acte as his bed companion. This showed that he had wearied of his vices and wished to return to natural habits, which h
appened sometimes.

  I did not see Nero as an animal. Indeed, he seemed to me to be suffering, a man in despair from distrust, or perhaps a spoiled overfed child who could not understand why other people thought he was evil when he himself wished no one ill and was also a great singer, perhaps the greatest of his time, as he himself believed. I am no judge, for I am rather unmusical.

  Anyhow, when I arrived, Nero was just doing the singing exercises he did every morning. His voice penetrated right through the whole of the Golden Palace. In between he gargled. Nero did not even dare eat fruit because some physician had said that it was not good for his voice. I think an apple or a few grapes are good with the usual morning honey-bread and also assist digestion, which is important for anyone who lives rather well after a certain age.

  When I spoke Antonia’s name, my voice trembling and stammering, Nero’s salt gargle fastened in his throat, and he coughed as if he were about to choke. Acte had to thump him on the back and he was furious and chased her out of the room.

  “What have you got to say about Antonia, you damned informer?” asked Nero, when Acte had gone and he could talk again.

  I confessed that hitherto I had kept it from him that Antonia had been involved in Piso’s conspiracy, out of respect for her father Emperor Claudius, who in his time had been kind enough to give me the name Lausus when I received my man-toga. But my conscience would not leave me in peace when it came to Nero’s safety.

  I threw myself onto my knees and told him that Antonia had many a time summoned me at night and with promises of rewards and high office, had tried to persuade me to join the conspiracy. She considered that as a close friend to Nero, I had excellent opportunities to plan to murder him with poison or a dagger.

  To add salt to his wounds, I also told him that Antonia had promised to marry Piso after the coup. This absurd rumor wounded his vanity more than anything else, for Antonia had rejected Nero in a most decisive manner.

  But Nero was doubtful still and did not trust me. It seemed to be beyond his understanding that a woman such as Antonia could have shown confidence in me, who in his eyes was an insignificant person.

  He now had me arrested and put under the guard of the centurion on duty in the Palace, in one of the uncompleted rooms in which a well-known craftsman was doing a magnificent painting of the duel between Achilles and Hector on the walls of Troy. Nero was a Julian and wished to remind his guests that he was descended from an improper relationship between the Trojan Aeneas and Venus. So he never worshiped in the temple of Vulcan, for instance, but always spoke disparagingly of Vulcan. The influential guild of smiths did not like this at all.

  The smell of paint irritated me as much as the artist’s self-conscious performance. He would not permit me to talk to my guard even in whispers, in case we disturbed him in his important work. I was affronted that Nero had not put me under the guard of a tribune so that I had to make do with the company of a centurion, although he was a Roman knight. To pass the time and soothe my inner tension, we could have talked about horses if only that conceited craftsman had not forbidden it.

  I dared not insult him, for he was high in Nero’s favor. Nero treated him with respect and had given him citizenship. So he always painted dressed in a toga, however absurd it looked. Nero had once even said that he would be glad to promote him to the rank of knight, but nevertheless had not done so. A colored animal trainer was one thing, but a craftsman who painted pictures as a profession-no, there are limits. Even Nero realized this.

  I had to wait until the afternoon, but Nero did have food sent to me from his own table, so I was not all that anxious. The centurion and I played dice in silence and we drank some wine, though not enough to intoxicate him since he was on duty. I took the opportunity to send a message to Claudia to say that I had been arrested as a suspect.

  Although your mother knew perfectly well I had to secure your future, in her woman’s way she did not like the politically necessary role of informer. I now wished to make her a little anxious for my safety, although I myself was not as anxious as I led her to understand in the message. But then I knew Nero’s whims and did not trust his advisers, not even Tigellinus, although for several reasons he owed me a debt of gratitude.

  I was temptingly wealthy, even if I had done my best to hide the true size of my fortune. I remembered uneasily the death of Consul Vestinus, whom we had not even taken into the conspiracy. Fortunately, I knew that Statilia Messalina was on my side for this very reason.

  Of course, no marriage had yet taken place between her and Nero, for the laws prescribe a waiting period of nine months, but Statilia was preparing a brilliant wedding feast anyhow, and Nero had already had a foretaste of her charms while Vestinus was still alive. Nero had presumably turned to Acte when Statilia was making sacrifices to the Moon Goddess to make herself a better woman. I knew Acte was sympathetic toward the Christian teaching, and she tried to strengthen Nero’s good qualities, which indeed he possessed, though the task was probably beyond any woman.

  Statilia did the opposite. She was the first woman in Rome to introduce the originally German fashion of wearing her left breast bared. She could afford to do this, for she was proud of her well-shaped breasts. Women who were less well equipped by nature were affronted by this new fashion and thought it indecent, as if there were something evil in showing a lovely breast. Even the priestesses at public sacrifices and the Vestals themselves appear on some occasions with their breasts bared, so the habit is more hallowed by a thousand years of tradition rather than indecent in any way.

  By the evening, Tigellinus had gathered sufficient evidence of Antonia’s part in the conspiracy from the men who were still alive in Tul-lianum. Two cowardly informers had hastened up as well, to receive a share in the reward. Unblinkingly, they swore that Antonia really had promised to marry Piso as soon as he could rid himself of his wife, and that they had even exchanged betrothal gifts. At the search of Antonia’s house, a necklace of Indian rubies bought secredy by Piso from a Syrian goldsmith was found. How it came to be in Antonia’s house I do not know, nor do I wish to know.

  All this evidence convinced Nero. He put on an act of despair, though naturally he was secretly pleased to have a legal reason for killing Antonia. To show me favor he invited me to see the menagerie in his new garden, where Epaphroditus had arranged a private display for his amusement. I was surprised to see some naked boys and girls tied to posts near the lion cages. Epaphroditus was equipped with an animal trainer’s red-hot iron and a sword at his side, but he made a sign to me that I need not worry.

  To tell the truth, I was quite frightened when a dull roar was suddenly heard and a lion came rushing toward the posts, its tail thrashing. It rose on its hind legs to claw at the naked victims and sniffed at their sex organs in a disgusting way. To my astonishment the youngsters suffered no injuries at all as they twisted and turned in terror. When the lion had calmed down a little, Epaphroditus stepped forward and thrust his sword into its belly so that the blood spattered forth and the lion tumbled over, kicking its paws about in the air and dying as credibly as one could wish for.

  When the boys and girls had been released and led away, still shaking with fright, Nero crept out of the lion’s head and asked proudly whether he had managed to convince me with his acting, despite my experience with wild animals. Of course, I assured him that I had believed in the lion.

  Nero showed me the steel springs and technical equipment of the lion costume, as well as the bag of blood which Epaphroditus had punctured with his sword. I have often wondered since about this absurd game, which seemed to give Nero great satisfaction but which he was in some way ashamed of and allowed only a few of his friends to see.

  When he had in this way shown his confidence in me, he looked at me cunningly with feigned placidness.

  “There is evidence of Antonia’s guilt,” he said, “and I must believe it, however much I may grieve that she has to die. She is, after all, my half sister. You were the one to
open my eyes. So you shall have the honor of going to her and opening her veins. If I allowed her to do it voluntarily I should not be making a public affair of it. My own reputation is at stake too. I shall give her a State burial and have her urn put in the god Augustus’ mausoleum. I shall tell the Senate and the people that she committed suicide while her mind was confused, in order to be spared a fatal disease. One can always find a reason as long as she behaves and makes no fuss.”

  I was so surprised that my words fastened in my throat, for Nero had forestalled me. I had thought of asking him for the favor of taking the message to Antonia myself, to be able to spend the last moments with her and hold her hand as the blood left her lovely body. This had helped me endure the tension of that long day.

  Nero misunderstood my silence. He laughed, slapped me on the back and said contemptuously, “I realize that you think it unpleasant to have to reveal yourself as an informer to Antonia. You must have had something between you at your secret meetings. I know Antonia.”

  But I do not seriously believe he imagined that Antonia would have lowered herself to a man like me when she had rejected Nero himself.

  By sending me to Antonia, Nero thought he was humiliating me, for inwardly he despised all informers. But there are differences between informers, as I think I have shown in my story. My own motives were more noble than selfish. I was thinking of you my son, and through you of the future of the Julian family. To preserve my life was less important to me. Nero, however, by mistake granted me the greatest joy I could have hoped for at the moment when he thought he was humiliating me.

  This I saw in Antonia’s radiant face when once again she saw me after believing that we had parted forever. I do not think anyone has received a sentence of death with such outstretched arms, such radiant eyes and smiling face. She showed her joy so openly that I at once told the tribune and his soldiers to go away. It would be sufficient if they guarded the house from outside.